


Partners

by Canterous



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6491095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canterous/pseuds/Canterous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello again, Jaune."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

“Hello again, Jaune”

For months, that voice had haunted his dreams. Over and over, his subconscious had him relive the night Beacon had fallen, the night she had died. And the waking world offered him no reprieve – even something as mundane as a cereal box resurfaced once joyous memories, which now only bring gut-wrenching sorrow. In that time, trying to recover from her murder, he had come to the conclusion that there couldn’t be a worse torture in the world.

Remnant, it seems, just loves to prove him wrong.

There she stands, the fallen champion of Mistral, his partner and mentor, looking over the body of another fallen enemy with an expression that Jaune hopes is remorse. A quick glance shows the person to be Pyrrha’s own mother – still breathing, by the rise and fall of her chest, but a wicked, bloody slash slicing across her lower back casts doubts on her chances of survival.

His chest tightens with yet more dread as he looks upon the sight. What kind of monster turns a person against their own kingdom, their own family?

_Then again, what kind of person uses children to fight their wars for them?_

She turns, and he quickly forces down the dread, he can’t allow himself to lose control of his emotions when so much was riding on this. Her lips curve into a sad smile as she looks at him, and his dread returns with a vengeance.

Her left eye, still the beautiful emerald he remembers, adopts the same sad look. But the right eye stares at him full of the malice and hatred that Grimm have always possessed. Though the eye isn’t what disturbs him most, more so it is the white bone mask that covers it.

When last he had seen her in the swamps of Mistral, in their attempt to protect the Spring Maiden, the mask and its ornate red pattern covered only her right eye. Now, it seems it has actually _grown_ so that it is now intruding on her left eye, and Jaune doesn’t want to know what it might mean for her should it finish the process.

The mask isn’t the only change from the Pyrrha he knew. Her crimson hair is done up in a long braid that falls down her chest, rather than hanging in the long ponytail that he’d almost always seen her with – likely due to the absence of her circlet. Black, chitin-like armour reminiscent of the Grimm replaces her combat gear, shielding her from the ashes and embers that now choke Mistral’s air.

The Champion slowly makes her way over to him, her guard down and her weapons ‘sheathed’, smoke cascading off her armour as she moves. But he still eyes her warily – he saw what that glove on her right hand did to the Spring Maiden, and he has no intention of becoming that bug’s next meal.

She stops just a foot away and smiles sweetly up at him, expression betraying the chaos around them, chaos she helped create. His heart races just a little faster in his chest.

“It’s been too long, Jaune.”

“You’ve changed, Pyrrha,”

Her right hand moves to touch her mask, and Jaune has to force himself not to flinch. “A…unfortunate necessity, I’m afraid. For her plans.”

“Who’s? Cinder’s?” He has a feeling he knows who already – a name whispered in his dreams since the incident with the Spring Maiden. But she doesn’t need to know that.

Her expression hardens upon hearing the name of her murderer, and so does her voice. “I do not serve that detestable woman, Jaune,” Her voice softens again, “I serve someone greater. You’ll found out who soon enough.”

He doesn’t like the knowing look in her eye.

“So then why all this? Why all the death and destruction? Why destroy your home?” He gestures to her mother’s broken body on the ground, “Your family?” He needs to keep her distracted, keep her from helping Cinder while Ruby and Qrow deal with her.

“Because it’s what she wants, for the world she wants to build. But to make a new world, we must first do away with the old.” _Good, she’s going into a monologue_.

However, her expression shifts once more, now seeming a little more self-conscious.

“It’s not just for her, though.” She takes a deep breath before continuing; clearly uncomfortable with what she was about to say, “It’s also for a world in which we can be together.”

He… hadn’t expected that.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Pyrrha silences him with a quick finger over his lips. “Are you aware what Ozpin had intended for me in the vault that night?” He nods. Qrow had parted with some of the details, and he had figured out the rest. He knows she had resigned herself to her death that night; it doesn’t make the pain of her loss any better.

“In the end, it wasn’t some noble desire to fulfil my destiny that made me agree to the transfer. It was you.”

His blood turns to ice in his veins as thick, tar-like guilt pools in him once more. This is the last thing he wants to hear. He isn’t worth such a sacrifice, especially from her.

She continues, her voice now trembling, “The thought of you dying crushed me, still crushes me. It’s why I forced you into that locker and sent you back into Vale, why I went back up the tower to face Cinder. But my master would give us a second chance to have a future together, a future this world denied us.” Her hand moves to cup his cheek and he might find the gesture comforting, if her hand didn’t feel as cold as the grave. “Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that why you’re still here, talking to me rather than fighting me?”

He remembers a naïve boy who had wanted to be a hero, like the ones in the fairy tales, like the one he had thought his father to be. But somewhere along the line that dream had faded and he’s not sure when it happened. Maybe when Beacon had fallen? Or later, when he’d learned about the truth of the maidens, the truth that Ozpin and those around him had concealed from the world, and what he had meant for Pyrrha? Either way, he doesn’t want to be the hero anymore. Not when he now knows what that gets you in the real world. What it had gotten her.

How things have changed.

So in the end, she’s right. It is what he wants. But not like this. Not with the lives of so many as its price. And he knows that the girl in front of him isn’t Pyrrha, not really. She may walk like her, talk like her, possibly even _feel_ like her. But it isn’t Pyrrha. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words, and her actions today tell him in no uncertain terms that this isn’t the girl he came to love.

“Jaune?” Her voice snaps him back to reality.

“So what do you say? Tell me where Ruby is and after I’ve… dealt with her I can take you to see the architect of all this. She’s rather interested in your semblance, you know,” She cocks her head, “I always knew there was something special about you, even before I learned of how much aura you possessed.”

Why is she bothering making him such an ‘offer’? She knows better than anyone else the loyalty he has for his friends. Just more confirmation that this isn’t the real Pyrrha. On the bright side, it will make what comes next a little easier for him.

He gives her no response. Instead, he withdraws from her, pacing backwards until there are a few metres between them. He gets into a combat stance, like she had taught him, and withdraws Crocea Mors from his hip and Akouo from his back. He briefly ponders something Ruby had said to him once, that you could tell a lot about a person from the weapons they choose to wield. So he wonders, what does his opponent think of him using her old shield?

She continues trying to reason with him, worry now seeping into her voice, “Jaune, please don’t do this. You’ve made such great progress, more than I could ever have hoped for in such short time, but you can’t win against me, and I can’t guarantee your wellbeing if you resist.” His continued silence answers for him as a resounding ’no’. Shaking her head with a weary sigh, she offers him another sad smile before continuing, “You always were so stubborn. In the past I had thought it one of your more… endearing traits. Now I can only hope it doesn’t kill you in the end.”

Without another word, she slips into a combat stance. The smoke flowing around her armor coils around her hands, coalescing into a crude sword and shield made of bone fused with jagged metal shards, clearly intended for ripping and tearing rather than cutting and slashing. In other words, inflicting pain.

If he just ignores the chaos around them, the roaring fires of a burning Mistral and the hushed booms in the distance, he could almost pretend they were back at Beacon, about to engage in one of their nightly spars.

He draws in one deep breath, steeling himself and praying silently to whoever may be listening that this ‘plan’ of his works, that his friends stay alive. He can’t afford any other outcome.

And then he charges.

He feels the familiar grip of her semblance, and the force with which she flings him back into the stone wall of the building behind him almost has him black out. Pain flares all over his body, then melts away as his aura gets to work repairing the damage, and returns once more as Pyrrha forces him further into the wall. It isn’t hard to see that she’s trying to sap him of his aura so that he’ll have no other choice but to capitulate. But he’s counting on that.

He forces himself to look up, but he hears them before he sees them, over a dozen small pink canisters whistling through the air arranged in a heart shape so typical of the Valkyrie. And Pyrrha still hasn’t noticed them, all her attention focused on him believing that he’ll still take the honourable approach. However, he isn’t a complete fool. He knows that he couldn’t ever win this fight, not by himself at least.

Arcs are taught that honour is one of the important qualities to have. Well, today honour can go screw itself. It isn’t worth more than her life.

The barrage hits, kicking up debris from the cobbled road, and it’s all she can do not to get blown off her feet. Good to know she can still be surprised. The black aura around his armor fades away, and he falls five metres to his knees and hands on the cobblestone, Crocea Mors clanking off to his side. Pain returns, and he allows his aura to soothe some of the damage. But not all of it, he’s going to need as much as possible for his semblance. The first time he had consciously used it in battle he had depleted half his aura, and consulting his scroll he finds it be worryingly just at dark orange.

Forcing himself to his feet with his arm clutching his side, he peers into the pink mist that Nora created for them. He spots two figures, one unmistakably Pyrrha with her weapons still in her hands, the other cutting a sleek silhouette dashing towards her, distinctly lacking Stormflower. Jaune had Ren leave his weapons behind to avoid the possibility of the Champion detecting the metal in the ambush. But she was a member of JNPR as well, and she knows just as much as he does that where there’s Nora, Ren’s not far behind.

The two combatants engage. Ren throws an aura enhanced attack toward her neck. She anticipates the move, sidestepping before countering with a shield bash, to shove him back out from his effective range while off balance. He tumbles and uses the momentum to quickly roll back to his feet. Without his weapons Ren is particularly vulnerable, with only his reflexes and aura protecting him from the bite of her blade. And they both know it will only be a matter of time before he tires and leaves himself open to a fatal attack.

If he were alone, that is.

Instead of engaging Ren to keep him on the defensive, she turns her back to him to face the direction from which the barrage came. Right on time, a supercharged Nora sails in from the air on her hammer. It’s too late to dodge, so she meets her attack head on with her shield. She barely holds her ground against the Valkyrie’s immense strength, and before she can retaliate Nora fires another round into her shield, propelling herself away from the threat while staggering the champion. She lands several metres away from her old teammate, ready for her next move. And although she blocked the attack, she still took the full force of the hit through her left arm – she’ll have to spend precious aura if she wants to be able to block effectively again.

Frustrated, Jaune can only watch from the side-lines as his teammates wage a war of attrition against each other. How is it that the one who had believed in him the most is also the best at making him feel so utterly useless?

On cue, familiar blue lightning streaks from one of the rooftops to strike Pyrrha, courtesy of Neptune. With thousands of volts coursing through her body, her involuntary screams signal the arrival of team SSSN, and partially resurface Jaune’s memories of the vault underneath Beacon with that abhorrent machine.

When he had earlier approached team SSSN with his ‘plan’ he had expected hesitation, possibly even complete refusal. To their credit, they had all immediately agreed, citing ‘no man (or woman) left behind’, not if they could help it. And honestly, it only makes Jaune feel even guiltier; he’s getting them to risk their lives at the behest of a person they barely know to save someone that would likely kill them were they to make the slightest mistake. He hopes that after this battle he’ll still have the chance to make it up to them.

With the addition of the members of SSSN, together with Nora and Ren they form a six person prison around the Champion. Jaune’s hope is that with all the electricity that had been forced through her, it would ruin her fine control over her semblance and thus render it unusable.

As he finds out, he was only half right.

Sage is the first to close the distance between him and the once invincible girl, and is rewarded by being flung right back into his smaller partner Scarlet. It’s here Jaune realises his mistake in assuming that with destroying her control over her semblance that she would cease to use it entirely; now she wields it like a hammer, recklessly bludgeoning her enemies to death with it. She’ll finish them off one by one, and then he will be at her mercy once more.

She’s meant to be tiring, but instead she seems to be moving at a speed even Ruby might be hard-pressed to match. Desperation makes her fighting style more akin to an animal backed into a corner than a trained duellist. His strategy won’t work, they’ll tire faster than she will and the rest of his team, not to mention SSSN, will die because of his foolishness. And he’s helpless to stop it.

No. He refuses to let that happen, to fail them as he’d failed her. Not while he still breathes.

He undoes the leather straps holding his armor securely to his body, letting the individual pieces fall to the ground, and removes Akouo from his left arm. Against Pyrrha the armour may as well be made of paper, and he can’t risk being detected by her, so that means shedding any metal he has. Preferably, Nora and Ren with the help of SSSN would have subdued her, and he would attempt to use his semblance to rid her of…whatever the hell Cinder or this ‘Salem’ figure has done to her.

After the tragedy of the Spring Maiden, Jaune had finally gained control over his semblance and found it had the curious effect of evaporating any Grimm caught in its radius – something Qrow had referred to once as ‘cleansing’. With a little luck, he realised he may be able to use this to ‘cleanse’ Pyrrha, though why he’s still counting on luck he has no clue; it certainly has done him no favours for the past few months.

So he waits for an opening while his friends continue to hold her off. And once he spies it, he makes his move.

Once more unto the charge.

She’s facing away from him, just taken another hit from Magnhild. She’s off-balance, now’s the best chance he’ll get. He lunges, aiming to restrain her and somehow activate his semblance before she inevitably throws him off and guts him.

Of course, he underestimates his partner once more.

He hears the sound of his own death before he registers the pain.

His arms are outstretched toward her, hands firmly gripping her shoulders. Her expression is aghast, her human eye staring at him refusing to believe what has just transpired. He looks down to investigate the source of what is rapidly becoming agony. Now he understands why.

Embedded in the left of his torso is her corrupted blade, the tip just exiting his lower back. Wisps of white leak from the entry and exit wounds, and warm, slick red oozing down his front and back.

He’s dying.

But he still has a chance to save her, however remote that might be now. He needs to act fast before shock sets in and panic claims his mind. She remains in shock, unsure of what to do. She can’t remove the blade as he’ll bleed out more quickly, not to mention that with the weapon’s design moving it will shred his organs even further. Not that he gives her much choice about the latter.

With what strength remains in his body, he pulls himself toward her, skewering him further with the blade erupting from his back like a tooth of a dragon. He thinks he hears Nora cry his name. It sounds so distant.

He retains lucidity through sheer might of will, keeping the vestiges of his aura from futilely attempting to heal his fatal wounds. Proximity will be key with so little left.

He recalls one potent memory of his father, how he had taken him aside after his announcement of his entry into Beacon. He told him, away from the rest of his family, that as a hunter his stubbornness, his unwillingness to let go would only get himself and those around him killed. Like the naïve boy he was, he brushed aside his warning, as how could determination be a detrimental quality in a huntsman? If only he’d known how prophetic those words would turn out to be. Now he’s impaled on his partner’s sword, dying because he couldn’t let go of her.

He shoves the memory to the back of his mind. _Focus on the people you can save_.

He had learned early on with his semblance that it was activated by positive feelings, namely the desire to protect those around him. Emotions such as dread, anger and sorrow only stymied it. So he forces himself to recount his memories of Pyrrha, to remind himself of just how important she is to him, of what she had done for him and what he feels for her. The initiation and dance feature prominently, as does their first and sadly last kiss.

A tell-tale white glow, dim as it is, envelopes him and begins to slowly expand outward. And as his semblance consumes them both, he realises that the agony is fading, his nerves firing impulses slower and slower as his body fails him. So he tries with the last chance he has to tell her how he feels.

But his tongue has become an indextrous slug slithering in his mouth as he dies. He tries to force out those three simple words to no avail, each iteration more mangled than the last. Panic overtakes his mind as he knows he’s going to his grave and he’s thrown away his last opportunity to tell her he loves her.

Mercifully, the darkness comes quick.

**Author's Note:**

> Two months since the volume 3 finale and it still feels like a kick between the legs...  
> But I'm not going to rant here about it. That can be done in the comments, if need be.  
> I wanted to try out present tense narrative, so sorry if it's not all that good. And please do leave any points and/or critiques you have in the comments. I am intending to continue this, but with exams on the horizon, updates aren't likely to be regular.  
> Partly inspired by this:  
> http://mete-g.tumblr.com/image/139653538295


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